


All This, And Heaven Too

by lovelykenobi



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: After the not-Apocalypse, Ficlet, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Medium Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, bitchass aziraphale cant admit his feelings but whats new, idk how to tag this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 09:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19438384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelykenobi/pseuds/lovelykenobi
Summary: "So many years had passed with Crowley aside him. Together they’d seen the way the times changed. From the Renaissance to revolutions, from Eden to England, they’d been at each other’s sides."-A soft, sort of angsty ineffable husbands fic(let.)





	All This, And Heaven Too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The Ineffable Dumbasses Discorporated Group Chat!!](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+Ineffable+Dumbasses+Discorporated+Group+Chat%21%21).



> My first Good Omens fic! I love love LOVE this show, and I just really needed something to write for, and this was exactly what I needed. I really loved writing this fic, and I hope you'll love reading it ! 
> 
> As with all of my fics, I highly recommend listening to one of my playlists while reading! I wrote to these two:   
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5AH8MwoarhzDLHcrXB6odD?si=hzjKznwGRiq_zy2n6MNKSA  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7uXkyHyYEan5TrQGYkvQdU?si=ok3S-BKRT5mirj6toYNZUA
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated. They let me know that my work is loved and motivate me to keep writing. Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> XO, KC

Aziraphale wasn’t sure if this place was the place, as the door swung open, revealing the grimy, dark bar. He kept his head low, avoiding the glances of the patrons, their faces obscured and nameless, nursing a drink until they could forget, voices undefined against the music. This wasn’t a place where he’d ever wanted to be, his white clothing a stark contrast of the room. 

_He’s not here. And he doesn’t want you to find him._ Aziraphale sat, ordering a drink he wouldn’t bother to touch. He scanned the faces of the patrons, looking for his defined jawline, his sharp nose, dark shades, unneeded. But nothing was recognizable, the room full of strangers. Aziraphale sighed. No luck this time, no luck last time. 

_ Maybe I should.  _

__ The band transitioned into another song. Something about losing someone you loved, rough voices and lazy instrumentals against an uninterested crowd.He contemplated giving up and taking a sip, getting drunk until he didn’t remember why he ached so badly. He took hold of the glass. 

Aziraphale sat back, staring at the dark liquid in his drink. Aziraphale knew, deep in his heart, that he was searching for someone who didn’t want to be found. And at this point, there wasn’t much inside of him that motivated him to keep looking. 

The singer of the band sang soulfully, the hurt leaking through his voice.  _ My angel, words forever unsaid.  _ Guilt ached through Aziraphale’s whole body, a stone inside his stomach, the weight dragging him down. 

__ Something reminiscent of tears filled Aziraphale’s eyes. He supposed that whatever he felt would eventually wash away with enough alcohol. Maybe he’d go back to Paris. Maybe he’d go far, far away. 

But right now, Aziraphale just wanted to go home, to his books and his rhythms. It was a mistake, coming here. Pretending that he still had something to look for. Pretending that there was a sliver of hope for him to find. 

There was nothing left for him here. 

He stood to go to the restroom to clean himself up. The band finished their set, the lead singer saying a half hearted thank you. As they took a break, the bartender handed the four of them their drinks. The band members thanked the bartender. Aziraphale nodded some kind of apology for getting into their way as he walked to the bathroom. He didn’t bother to look at them, or meet their eyes. 

Aziraphale met his own blue eyes in the grimy mirror. He looked positively awful, and miracled himself back to something more presentable, rubbing his eyes.

The bathroom door swung open, and Aziraphale looked up, hands gripping the dirty sink. He checked his reflection again. 

His eyes met the figure behind him. He nodded curtly. The man behind him was just a stranger for a moment. But slowly, it dawned on him. The dark glasses reflected in the mirror. He placed a foot to turn behind him, but in a fast motion, before he could even say a word, Crowley had him pinned to the wall. His shades rattled to the floor. His eyes glinted yellow in the dim light.

A bead of sweat trickled down 

“What are you doing here.” Crowley hissed. His breath was hot, his hair pulled halfway back. Aziraphale should’ve been afraid, but he wasn’t. 

“I’ve b-been looking for you.”

Crowley’s mouth opened, lingering on the form of a word, before he closed it again. Thick silence closed in between the two of them.

_ In some way, they were both remembering the fight. That day, things seemed to come to a breaking point. Both of them were expectant for the unsaid to become said.  _

_ Crowley’s harsh “I never want to see you again.” Aziraphale’s harsh words, “I wouldn’t expect any better from you.” And then Crowley was gone. In the wind. It was like losing a limb. _

It had taken so long, for Aziraphale to find him, bar after bar, empty nights. 

The door opened, and a surprised gasp came from it. “Oh, sorry.” The person rushed away. 

Aziraphale felt a blush creep across his cheeks. He wanted to call out an apology to the person, but there were more pressing matters at hand. Crowley hadn’t even looked away, his steely eyes fixated on Aziraphale. 

“We should find somewhere else.” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley nodded, picking up his sunglasses and tucking them inside of his shirt pocket. 

“Follow me.” He said, and Aziraphale obeyed, following Crowley through the renewed stares of the bar patrons, past the wide eyed band, through the back door, and back into the night. Behind the bar, they turned into a car park. 

Crowley snapped his fingers and the Bentley turned on. Aziraphale got in, memories flooding through his head. The scent of old leather and the cologne Crowley would never admit he wore. He was so familiar with those smells, comforting like sinking into bed after a long trip.  _ Like coming home.  _

But those feelings didn’t matter now, because Crowley was staring at him with the rage of the Devil in his eyes. 

“Why did you look for me.” His voice was curt and harsh. It cut deep into Aziraphale.

“I…. I don’t know.” 

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “You don’t know?” 

Aziraphale knew, deep down that he had told a lie. He knew exactly why he had searched. He could reach down and identify the feelings in his heart. Aziraphale knew that he’d came because he didn’t want to be without Crowley. Nothing could replace that which he missed, ached for,  _ craved. _

Aziraphale paused. Over six thousand years, he’d told a lot of lies to Crowley. It was a lie that he’d told that had caused the fight in the first place. It was what caused them to crumble. 

He didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes. The two of them had followed each other around the same loop for centuries now. Aziraphale wanted to believe there was a way out of their constant patterns. Maybe this was his chance.

Aziraphale closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply.

“I’ve told you a lie, and I don’t want to tell you any more.”

Confusion registered on Crowley’s face. Those hard eyes softened, a yellow lamplight in the endless darkness between them. 

“I do know why.” Aziraphale wrenched his sweaty hands together as he steadied himself. “Things just weren’t the same without you.” 

Crowley’s eyes widened. 

Aziraphale had always believed that Crowley’s hard persona was partially a facade. For hell, for the world, for Aziraphale. He’d never admit it, _ especially  _ not to himself. And in a moment, he watched the facade fall away, shattering like a mirror. 

“This time, will you say it?” 

Aziraphale took a shaky breath. 

“ _ I love you.”  _

In a quick motion, Crowley leaned over to kiss Aziraphale. It was greedy, desperate, and so  _ new.  _ So many years had passed with Crowley aside him. Together they’d seen the way the times changed. From the Renaissance to revolutions, from Eden to England, they’d been at each other’s sides. But this was new territory. Crowley’s soft lips, parting gently as his hand went to cup Aziraphale’s face, pulling him closer  _ closer.  _

Aziraphale curled his fingers in Crowley’s shirt, and Crowley broke the kiss. Aziraphale sighed, wanting more. That devilish grin broke across his face. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.” 

“Six thousand years?” 

Crowley chuckled. “Six thousand years.” 

Aziraphale leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I wish I could’ve been six thousand years earlier.” 

And then they were kissing again, open mouthed and gentle, Crowley’s hands in Aziraphale’s curls, the need between them remaining gentle, delicate, for fear of disturbing a perfect moment. 

Crowley broke the kiss briefly to whisper in Aziraphale’s ear, his breath hot. “ _ I love you too. _ ” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading !


End file.
